


It Was Always Me and You

by MeganWrites



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Season 2, Some slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2907677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganWrites/pseuds/MeganWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey groans and sits up, rubbing his hand over his face harshly, "the fuck are you saying, Gallagher?"</p><p>"That you're my best friend, and that maybe I'm your best friend."</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Always Me and You

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Mess is Mine by Vance Joy, I was listening to it for a good portion of writing this soo... there's the title. Otherwise it doesn't have much to do with the plot. I posted a little teaser for this on my tumblr and said I was hoping to have it posted... yesterday. So, living up to my ever terrible posting schedule predictions, it is one day late! I got this idea half from my mind, and half from a headcanon I have that matches with a post from tumblr about their first kiss being in season 2 (which I tried to find so I could link it here but I couldn't!! augh!)... and half because that post just inspired me to be like.. "oh yeah, I've been meaning to write something for that... I should actually write something for that..." There were a lot of halves to this fic. So many halves it made up more than one whole.
> 
> So, anyways, here it is! Once again, really rough editing because I suck. (Also, I swear I'll work on my multi-chapter/AU series at some point)

Ian's never really liked Karen that much, maybe a little when Lip first started hanging around her, but now he's just kind of done with the whole thing. There's so much drama going on between Karen and Lip at this point that he's pretty sure an afternoon soap opera could be made of it - and he's just really fucking done hearing about it from Lip.

Lip and his fucking incessant need to claw his way into Karen's life, even when he's clearly not wanted. It's getting creepy and obsessive, and the whole thing just pisses Ian off.

Which is why it surprises him that he even bothered going to Karen's Wedding Reception.

Maybe it's because his family went, or the free booze and food. He's honestly got no clue where the desire to go came from, but he regrets it within the first thirty minutes. Chaos comes in the form of Steve and his new wife, followed by a drunken Lip, a stoned Sheila, and Grammy Gallagher putting bullets in the roof.

Ian slips out of the house as soon as the cops disperse.

He thinks about going home for about ten seconds before texting Mickey to hang out - or, at least, he pretends that he does. He feels kind of pathetic that going home wasn't even a consideration; that going anywhere other than hanging out with Mickey didn't even pop into his mind. He tries not to think about how much of a lovesick puppy he is and instead makes his way to the baseball field as quickly as possible.

Ten minutes later he's circling the fence and is greeted by the sight of Mickey sprawled out on the grass, eyes closed and smoking a joint with an open beer held loosely beside him.

Ian grins and drops onto the ground next to him, grabbing the beer out of his hand and chugging the remaining quarter of the warm drink. Mickey opens one eye to peak at Ian and smirks before settling back again.

"Going to a fuckin’ ball, Cinderella? Turnin’ into a pumpkin at midnight?"

Ian laughs and leans back, stretching his arms out to hold him up. "That's not really how the story works."

"Like I give a shit."

Ian shrugs, even though Mickey's eyes are still closed and he can't see it. "Was at Karen's Wedding Reception, had to dress up."

Mickey snorts, "And how the fuck was that?"

"Grammy tried to shoot Sheila."

Mickey's looking over at Ian again, eyebrows raised to his hairline, "This the one who makes Meth?"

Ian smiles shyly and plays with the grass by his hands. He can't stop himself from being surprised every time Mickey remembers details about his life. He sometimes wonders how much Mickey remembers, if it's just general things he's mentioned or if it's all the little details.

He knows that it's probably not, but he hopes that it's the latter. After all, Ian remembers every detail Mickey's ever told him.

"Yeah, Frank's mom."

"Shit." Mickey mutters, "That’s hard-core, man. How the fuck did Frank come out of her?"

Ian laughs loudly and swipes the joint from Mickey, "There's always one shitty kid."

Mickey snorts and sits up, "Oh yeah, and which is the shitty kid out of your fuckin’ brood?"

"Lip," Ian answers easily.

"Yeah, yeah. That's just 'cause you’re pissed at him. Give it a fuckin’ week and jackass will be your best friend again."

Ian looks down and starts picking at the grass again. "What makes you think he's my best friend?"

Mickey takes the joint back from Ian and says, "Because you spend every fuckin’ day hanging out, gossip like fuckin’ girls, and you talk about the shit you do together every fuckin’ day."

Ian nods and chews on the inside of his cheek, "so who's your best friend?"

"Don't have one."

Ian's pretty drunk at this point and the weed is starting to take effect, mellowing him out. He knows Mickey feels the same, his eyelids are a little droopy and he's loose. Ian loves when they get fucked up together; Ian's a little braver and Mickey's more malleable.

"I could be your best friend."

Mickey narrows his eyes at Ian and scowls, "Not happening. Besides, you've already got one."

"Yeah, except I don't hang out with Lip all the time anymore, we don't really talk anymore, and the only time I talk about him is to complain." Ian says quietly, trying to keeping his gaze fixed on the grass and away from Mickey, but he can't help glancing back every few seconds. "But I do that with you."

Mickey groans and sits up, rubbing his hand over his face harshly, "the fuck are you saying, Gallagher?"

"That you're my best friend, and that maybe I'm your best friend."

Mickey breathes out deeply and clenches his jaw. “Would you stop being such a fag right now?” Normally this would be a sign that Ian’s taken it too far, pushed Mickey past what he’s comfortable with – except Mickey’s eyes are still downcast, like his words don’t really mean what they are. Learning to speak ‘Mickey’ is a long and complicated process, but Ian’s starting to understand.

He rolls his eyes and leans back on his arms again, “So, wanting to be your friend makes me more of a fag than sticking my dick in your ass?”

“Fuck off,” Mickey grumbles but there’s a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Ian laughs and breathes in deeply, inhaling the stale, hot air of a Chicago summer. “You know, friends hang out all the time without anyone wondering why.”

“No one wonders why now,” Mickey says, spitting on the ground and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Because people only see us together at work.”

“Yeah, and it’s going pretty fuckin’ well that way,” Mickey snaps back.

Ian frowns, his voice quiet when speaks, “Is being my friend really that bad?”

Mickey looks at Ian for a brief moment, his expression indiscernible. When he turns away from Ian, he grabs another joint from a baggy in his backpack. Ian’s sure at this point Mickey had figured they would be fucking, or maybe just finished fucking and basking in the afterglow. Watching Mickey grab a second joint is a sign of clear irritation that Ian isn't letting the conversation die.

But Ian just… can’t.

He really wishes that Mickey could understand what he’s trying to say. He isn’t trying to make Mickey upset, or push his boundaries, but Ian just really fucking cares about Mickey. He thinks about Mickey so often that it’s borderline obsessive. Every time he thinks of sneaking into a movie or baseball game the only person he wants with him is Mickey – the only person he always wants with him for anything is Mickey. Ian feels like he’s going fucking crazy but he can’t help it. Somewhere along the line he went from wishing Mickey would just fuck off and leave Kash alone to never wanting him to leave Ian’s side. When he thinks about it, Ian’s surprised it ever happened, but that’s just how he feels now.

He cares about Mickey Milkovich more than he cares about most people, and maybe he just wants a little assurance that Mickey might care about him too. Ian’s not in love with Mickey, he knows that, but he thinks maybe he’s on his way. If Mickey didn’t care about Ian, even just the smallest amount, Ian’s sure it would break his heart.

Mickey holds out his hand and lets Ian take the blunt from between his fingers. Ian takes a hit and holds in the fumes, closing his eyes and letting his body feel loose, preparing for whatever Mickey might finally say.

“If you want to call me your best friend, do whatever the fuck you want.” Mickey says gruffly.

Ian sits up and opens his eyes wide; he wasn’t expecting that. Maybe it isn’t quite the declaration that Ian had wished for, but it also wasn’t rejection. It was somewhere in the middle, somewhere vague but with hints that Mickey might care if Ian feels okay or not.

Because Mickey might care about him – _no,_ Mickey does care about him.

Ian reacts before he can think not to, leaning forward and swooping in to capture Mickey’s lips with his own. Maybe he’s too drunk and too high, or maybe the elation is effecting his judgement, but he kisses Mickey for the first time and it feels like that’s the only thing he’s ever been meant to do. The kiss doesn’t last long, barely a second passes before Mickey is shoving him off and wiping at his mouth.

He’s pissed, but fuck, Ian doesn’t regret it for a second.

“The fuck did I say about that shit, Gallagher?” Mickey hisses, the way he’s glaring and how his nostrils are flaring makes Ian wondering if cutting his tongue out is a threat that Mickey would go through with.

Mickey quickly scans the baseball field, checking for any witnesses before he leans back in closer to Ian. “Never again, got that?”

Ian nods quickly, working hard to suppress a loopy smile.

“Good,” Mickey grunts and settles back into his spot, “now quit fuckin’ yakin' and fuck me.”

Ian grins and lunges at Mickey once more. He doesn’t kiss Mickey again, despite how badly he wants to, but he thinks maybe another kiss isn’t too far in their future.

Maybe a lot of things aren’t too far in their future.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr :)](http://meganwwrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
